I was tagged for this picrew by @rookamell and @serensama!
Canon Lucalma (don't mind the violet eyes, there's no option to make them brown T_T):
Alma & Spite because he deserves flowers in his hair, too <3
A couple more under the cut not to clutter your dash!
Lucalma in a "meeting before the Ossuary" AU where they encounter each other in Antiva before Trespasser (snippet). The worm (?) creatures represent their steeds, because I envision them travelling (Lucanis on a contract, Alma searching for unclosed rifts out in the wilds) x)
And a little something for Abduction AU :'D
Something something masquerade~ To me, the image on Lucanis' armour looks like a bird (a crow?) spitting fire, and the colour scheme of Alma's dress reminds me of the garb of a Divine. Hm... are they cosplaying Cassandra protecting Divine Beatrix from the dragon?..
Premise: this ficlet is set in an AU where Alma (my Rook who used to be part of the Inquisition) meets Lucanis during the Inquisitor’s visit to Antiva in order to close rifts there. Alma and Lucanis work together during that time, growing fond of each other, and begin exchanging letters after the Inquisition moves on to Rivain (for the same purpose of closing rifts) and later returns to Skyhold.
Treviso, 9:44 Dragon.
Lucanis finishes sharpening his dagger, pleased with his work, and puts it aside to join five others, of different shape and length, already in pristine condition. He picks up his rapier next – the last but not the least.
It’s become a game of sorts to him… Well, not a game precisely, but a brief respite he allows himself while his hands go through the motions he’s been performing since he was a boy. As important as keeping his tools sharp and ready in his line of work is, Lucanis lets his thoughts drift towards something – someone – else, as opposed to jobs both completed and impending, or Caterina’s unrelenting demands, or Illario’s carelessness with some things and shrewdness with others.
Yes, Lucanis lets himself daydream a little. What else can he do while burning with impatience for the next letter to arrive?
Alma Amell… A chance encounter that led to something more.
It was not love at first sight. The beautiful Tevinter rose, as Illario called her, had thorns – unsurprisingly, – and they seemed to have gotten under Lucanis’ skin and stayed there. Not that he has actively sought to remove them. Definitely not through his cousin’s go-to methods. Lucanis just didn’t expect to get pricked at all – and for the tingle to linger.
Flowery language and poetry aren’t his strong suit, even though he’s been taught to utilize them properly, and asking Illario for help is unthinkable. Dreaming of something lasting feels too opportunistic, too bold and hopeful. Lucanis banishes the thought of marrying – “mating for life” – before it can cross his mind. He is a Dellamorte. He should know better. Yet letting Alma slip through his fingers without a fight leaves a sour taste in his mouth, worse than bad coffee.
He has to proceed cautiously ever since coming on too strong on the Night of Flowers: it wasn’t his intention to press her into anything, and it is his intention even less to alienate her completely. Lucanis writes of simple things, the way he would say them were she standing right before him.
I am alive. Mostly unharmed, but what would you expect in my line of work? The report is more bothersome than the actual job, I assure you. I hope you are well, too. How have you been?
You mentioned you still miss your mentor dearly. And that you were given his room to stay in after he left. I am sure you will meet again soon. No, this is not Crow inside knowledge but me simply wishing you well.
Has Rivain’s sun been kind to you? Did your duty take you to the seashore? The ocean breeze and the shade of palm trees should make the heat more bearable, although you are not the one to idle when there is work to be done.
Have you seen wyverns? Or creatures rarely encountered outside Rivain? I am curious about everything you may want to tell me. Except local wine. They don’t even know what wine is in Rivain. Let me treat you to dinner when you pass Treviso on your way back to Ferelden. Cioccolata calda at café Pietra is better than any hot chocolate Antiva City could offer you. Would you like to stay forever?
The raven that arrives, interrupting Lucanis’ reverie before it can land on the windowsill, is the one he recognizes all too well, and it does not bring the good tidings he was waiting for. He takes a deep breath. His routine is complete by now, the calm it usually brings marred by slight disappointment… and anxiety.
His leathers, his weapons – everything is perfect. A new contract awaits, drafted by the negotiators and signed by the First Talon. And he never fails his contracts.
This time, though, what drives him the strongest to finish this job and get back to his place as soon as possible, is the desire to read the next letter. And write his answer.
Hopefully he will not make Alma wait for it long.
Author's note: the Night of Flowers is a headcanon I've adopted. In this AU, the end of Inquisition's presence in Antiva coincides with the aforementioned night (it's spring, after all!), and due to several fledglings trying to seduce Inquisition agents, as well as some misunderstandings, Alma thinks that Lucanis wants to sleep with her for the sake of "old times" instead of having genuine feelings for her, and storms off. Lucanis... decides not to leave the matter unresolved :)
A challenge for myself to write something every day. Doesn't matter whether it's a couple of sentences, a finished piece or a snippet.
Last entry, and it's the conclusion of the conversation between Alma and Lucanis after Weisshaupt that essentially turns into an argument 🥲
Weisshaupt aftermath
“You don’t get it, Rook!” he all but snarled, shaking his head.
She stared back like he just slapped her.
“I don’t get it? I don’t—?!”
This was the shrillest he’d ever heard her, almost to the point of screeching, reminding him of—
The raw indignation made her choke. Her hand flew up to her face, clasping her mouth shut as her eyes went wide, as if she was taken aback by her own outburst.
Before Lucanis could do as much as blink, she retreated into herself. Both emotionally and physically, as if affected by a force spell that made her fold into herself, take up as little space as possible despite not moving a muscle to actually step away.
When Rook looked at him again, there was a film of ice in her eyes, hiding her true thoughts. In a matter of moments she smoothed out her facial expression, appearing serene, but he knew her long enough to know that this was her go-to polite smile. Surprisingly, it hurt to see it directed at him. He had missed the moment when he’d selfishly begun taking her ever-present warmth for granted.
“Of course. I don’t get it. Please go on.”
She was calm and collected again, hands folded neatly in front of her. He didn’t think anything could make him snap out of his aggravation, but the change in her disposition served as a bucket of ice cold water. To make it worse, it spurred Spite into sizzling angrily under his skin, urging Lucanis to do… something.
Their desires seemed to align in the beginning, except Lucanis could not follow his through, for he had been brought up better than that — by Caterina of all people, — and certainly not give in to Spite’s, for none of them could make sense of what the demon actually wanted to do after getting close to Rook. No matter Lucanis’ feelings towards her right now, he could not risk her well-being.
“It is better that I don’t,” he muttered and stalked into the pantry, leaving the argument unresolved.
He might have put more force than needed into closing the door behind him, all but slamming it shut. It was quiet for a while both in and outside the pantry, until his acute hearing caught Rook taking a sharp inhale and muttering in return:
Rookanis Week 2026 - Day 1: Coffee / Tea / Hot Chocolate
Currently my only entry for Rookanis Week 😅 I'll catch up with the others later ;)
Unabashed fluff, <1k words.
A Duet of Drinks
The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the dining hall. Both a staple of his everyday routine and a welcome treat. Lucanis inhales it with a pleasure that has not diminished, the times when it also evoked disgust and despair thankfully over.
It is joined by another scent, sweet and reminiscent of simpler times, times long gone. For a while now, this duet has been feeling like good tidings.
He is expecting Rook – Alma – to arrive and share drinks with him. This has become their small ritual, a short date-but-not-quite. He knows how seriously she takes her duty, this fight against the elven gods and their lackeys, so it's a challenge to persuade her to take a break, let alone go out and have a good time.
It comes to him easier than to others on their team, which is – he groans inwardly, she has been rubbing off on him – something to crow about.
He had his doubts whether she'd welcome this idea of spending time together instead of him inviting her out properly. He'd had the same doubts in the very beginning – when he'd realized that no power in this world or beyond would keep her from staying by his side as long as he welcomed her there, – whether anything he did would be worthy for her. He needn't have worried – which still makes him worry, – for she met his offer with a shy flutter of her eyelashes, a radiant smile and a promise to always find time – her schedule is tight – to come and see him.
And partake in his unparalleled brewing skills, she added as an afterthought. He chuckled then, seeing right through her.
He shouldn't question this twist of fate, but it does dumbfound him sometimes that no one has snatched this treasure before he came into the picture. He’s not looking the gifted horse (dracolisk, as she likes to say) in the mouth. He'd be no less grateful, no less willing to kill anyone she asked, were she spoken for. It does feel a bit selfish, a bit convenient that the beautiful, strong, compassionate woman who’s helped him leave the rock bottom behind for good reciprocates his feelings. Good thing she’s just as stubborn as him and no amount of his standoffishness as he was getting back into shape and dealing with… Spite, Zara, the Crows, his family… has deterred her.
He does indulge in wishful thinking sometimes – of what could have been if the Ossuary never happened. Would they still have fallen for each other? Yes, he likes to think. It would not have been the same, but they'd have arrived at the same place as they are now. He would definitely not have behaved like a cad towards her. They might have had this quiet, heartfelt warmth far sooner in that scenario.
Lucanis shakes his head. While it may be both fun and bittersweet to imagine that – it's something he rarely indulges in, – there is no time like the present. And right now, everything is ready, except for…
Ah.
Rook!
There she is.
Spite grins beside him.
It's an unexpected but nice change – to chuckle at his demon’s excitement to see their favourite person instead of frowning in annoyance or rage, or smothering a pang of fear that Spite might try to grab control and hurt Rook. Brave, inquisitive, self-sacrificing Rook.
They have gotten slightly better at conversing between themselves lately. There's a lot of ground to cover before they truly understand each other, if that's even possible, but, at least, Lucanis has managed to negotiate spending this meetup with Rook alone. No demonic interference.
If he has to wake up after another tea party he has no memory of, that's a small price to pay.
Lucanis kisses her in greeting – more of a quick peck, no less appreciative of her existence, of her affection than their… other kisses, but if he lingers any longer, their beverages may grow cold, and that’s the last thing he wants.
Rook… Alma understands him – she’s been waiting for this moment, too – and giggles excitedly, squinting her eyes shut for a heartbeat. The sheer delight in her eyes when she opens them again feels like a gut punch.
What good deed has he done in his life to deserve her?
They settle down with their cups at the small table in the corner, the dining table seeming too vast and business-like.
Spite takes the third armchair. Lucanis makes a bet with himself: at which point would the demon drift to Alma's side, sitting down on the armrest while she gestures animatedly as she talks, or looming ominously – mischievously – behind her...
Everything is right in the world – at least, for the moment.
A challenge for myself to write something every day. Doesn't matter whether it's a couple of sentences, a finished piece or a snippet.
Apparently I'm on roll for something smutty, playful or hot (or heading there), same as @awardenandacrow 🫣
Altus party (post-game / "the Crow on the Magister's shoulder")
Lucanis did not remember when he’d last gotten this angry.
His hands itched for his knives, to cut the old lecher up, Spite not helping his self-control with his snarling about the bastard’s protruding body parts that could easily be removed. But there was no contract, and they’d promised Alma not to cause trouble unless she was in real danger. Some pompous, arrogant snake smothering her hands and invading her personal space, almost stepping on her floor-length hem, did not count as such, unfortunately.
She could make the persistent man back off and slither away, humiliated, with several well-aimed, stinging words without losing face, but appearing unassuming and innocuous was her chosen course of conduct for the time being.
Lucanis continued keeping to the shadows with great difficulty, Spite still being unhelpful as he conjured vivid images of them sweeping upon Alma, capturing her in their arms, flying up to the upper balustrade and kissing her in front of everybody present without a care for the consequences. As desirable as that was, making Lucanis’ heart flutter with an almost youthful timidity, a callback from all the romance novels he’d read at that age… That would not serve Alma’s goal tonight.
Luckily for all parties involved, Alma soon managed to conclude the conversation graciously and get away from the annoying altus, her head held high and her gait purposeful. Lucanis kept his distance for at least two hallways, making sure she wasn’t being followed (by anyone other than him, of course), then appeared out of thin air at her side, grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her into the unused room he’d chosen as a rendezvous point beforehand.
He kicked the door closed, mindful of the noise, in conjunction with Alma sending a quick spell with her free hand and sealing the entrance for good. He smiled under his moustache faintly at her getting the hang of it, but his mind was more preoccupied with this unfamiliar, burning feeling twisting in his guts and chest. It seemed to spread into his arm as well, his fingers refusing to uncurl. Alma didn’t seem to mind. He definitely wasn’t hurting her, that much he still had control over, but now that they were alone, he refused to part with her, not even for a moment.
Throat tight, he walked her backwards until she met a wall. There were no lit candles or mage-lights in the room, nor there would be while they were here, only the dim light of the stars and outside lights peeking through the net curtained window. In the weak illumination Alma looked delicate and ethereal, like a benign sorceress from a children’s tale or a beautiful dream come true, a lovely vision plucked directly from his mind. The duality was maddening: her seeming fragility did not demean her power. He’d witnessed her wield it with astounding precision to bring her enemies death and ruin countless times… Yet with him, like this, she was nothing but sweet and understanding.
Alma’s free hand came to his shoulder, pulling him from his trance. She was smiling softly, not at all angry at his abrupt treatment of her. Lucanis felt like breathing a sigh of great relief. Like, were she a goddess, he’d be kneeling for hours, daily, at her altar thanking her for her patience with him and his inability to voice his thoughts and desires properly that occasionally took over him in her presence.
He could not help leaning in and pressing his forehead to hers, striving to breathe steadily. Alma nuzzled him back. He heard her adjust her own breathing, making it slower in order to ground him. It worked (it always did with her). He could feel his fingers finally relax, as if thawing out, and moved them up her arm, stroking the exposed skin lightly. Spite grew calm as well, his agitated ramblings quieting down. The demon sidled up to Alma, basking in her serenity. She smiled wider, feeling his proximity.
“Everything alright?” She was the first to break the silence.
Lucanis shook his head slightly and moved both arms to circle her waist, pulling her closer. Alma hugged his shoulders then and tilted her head to look him in the eye. Her own eyes seemed to glow in the gloom, reflecting the weak light from the outside. He was reluctant to meet her gaze. He was unable to look away once he did.
“Lucanis?” she tried again, growing worried, as Spite informed him, displeased. “Has someone tried something? Did someone sense Spite?”
Of course her first thought was about their wellbeing and safety. As if what he'd witnessed was no big deal. Maybe it was. For her. The thought that she was used to such treatment made his arms tighten around her, pressing her flush to his chest, made him hide his face from her view. What he'd give to murder every single cazzone here that he'd seen ogle her like a piece of meat…
“We're alright,” he admitted to soothe her doubts, straightening to look her in the eye. “Nothing out of the ordinary has transpired.”
Alma made a thoughtful noise, probably contemplating whether what he considered “ordinary” matched her own estimation. Then she chuckled softly, likely arriving at the conclusion that Tevinter altus parties differed little from the Crow ones.
“And all those self-absorbed mages wouldn't notice Spite unless he unfurled the wings,” Lucanis added wryly.
“Maybe even then,” Alma scoffed. “Considering how far into their cups they tend to be at this hour.”
His hands twitched again. She noticed. Of course she did. She raised her eyebrows questioningly, and there was no avoiding the issue now.
“Was that the reason the old man kept you for so long?”
Alma frowned. She didn't seem to understand his frustration. He didn't quite understand where it had come from, either. He could see the exact moment it dawned on her, her eyes widening.
She didn't say “Are you jealous, Lucanis?” as it suddenly made sense to him as well, although not why. The moment she opened her mouth, however, he wished she'd said exactly that.
“He was just painting in great detail what a good prospect he is,” Alma said primly, her gaze down. “What a great ally and mentor he could be for a young and freshly inducted magister…”
The only reason that Lucanis did not storm off to give his knives live flesh to sink in was his refusal to leave Alma on her own again. He didn't believe for a second that she'd let herself be charmed by another man, whatever sweet promises were made and simpering praises sung. She knew well the ugly dark side of the Tevinter elites, so no amount of power, wealth or magic in a bloodline could tempt her. Him possessing all that, except magic in his blood, didn't hurt either to be so sure of himself, even knowing it wasn't what she loved him for.
With deliberate slowness he raised one arm to rest his palm on the wall near her head.
“Do you have any idea how much self-restraint it took me not to descend upon the handsy fool and tear him apart?” Lucanis asked with deceptive smoothness. “If not for my promise, I would have dismembered him on the spot.”
Alma leaned away to rest the back of her head on the wall. She didn't look nervous or trapped. Despite his arms caging her, she looked as confident and alluring as ever.
“Really? Which parts of him would you have removed from his body, I wonder?” She tilted her head coyly, her eyes hooded. “His hands, for groping mine for longer than the etiquette allows?”
Her palms glided enticingly down Lucanis’ arms, all the way from the shoulders to the wrists.
“His tongue, for making veiled promises of what would be awaiting me in his chambers? Would you pluck out his eyes, like the true Crow you are, with which he kept undressing me from the moment he saw me?”
She cupped his face with her hands, tracing gently the corners of his mouth then the outer contour of his eyes with her thumbs. Lucanis' throat went dry.
“Would you cut off his cock with which he would have tried to violate me?”
Lucanis felt immensely grateful that she did not attempt to nudge his pelvis with hers.
“Or would you simply decapitate him, for it was his mind that came to the despicable decision of claiming me for himself?”
Her hands settled back on his shoulders, touching the front of his collar.
What she was saying was horrible, his blood starting to boil again with the powerful need to keep her safe from such dark designs. Were they not at a social event, having to keep up appearances, the rake would have faced a swift and sure end, very possibly from Alma herself, were his death aligned with the Shadow Dragons’ ongoing covert operations or the archon’s immediate plans.
Yet her careful choice of words wasn’t the only reason for the rush of blood. Lucanis felt like she was implying that she wouldn’t mind him doing all that to her (except violating in its direct sense, of course). Palming her, whispering genuine compliments and dirty promises in her ear, flustering her with his intense gaze from across the ballroom and making her long to leave the party and find a secluded place to be found by him… Having her beg for his cock inside of her, already wet for him, then clench around it deliciously as he had his way with her…
As for his head, he’d lost it over her long ago.
“All of that. And more,” he rasped, barely keeping himself from moaning out loud, unsure which layer of meaning he was replying to.
Rules: Post 6 (or more) fandom New Years Resolutions for 2026 and then tag at least 6 friends.
Same as @elishnord, these are more hopes than a to-do list necessary to complete ^_^ (who am I kidding...... At least part of them are 😭)
Write my own rendition of Lucanis' quests with Alma in mind to flesh out both her character and the start of their relationship (as well as any other game scenes/quests I want).
Write fics using the prompts for Lucanis and Spite Weeks (2025).
Write a finished fic (unrelated to the ideas above) that isn't a oneshot.
Learn to write proper short fics! And learn to finish said short fics 😬
Write more in general, with more confidence and for fun, not as an obligation or the misguided notion of trying to keep up with other fic writers. Sometimes I don't have the energy or the desire to be creative, and that's okay. Stop blaming yourself for it.
Draw more. I have too many pretty unused sketchbooks 🤣 I haven't bought a new drawing tablet yet, but I think I should draw the "old-fashioned" way as well.
Catch up with the tag games I've been putting off 😅 You'd think it'll be easy, but it isn't.
Tagging @im-on-fire-today, @chaosherald, @rookamell, @serensama, @awardenandacrow and @frotees-corner!
